"What the hell are you doing?"
The sharp voice cut through the air, laced with irritation. I paused, gripping the cloth in my hand before turning around.
Jillian.
She stood there, arms crossed, wearing a dress so tight and low-cut that it left little to the imagination. She looked effortlessly perfect, a stark contrast to my dust-covered clothes and the mop in my hand.
I met her gaze for a second, then turned away without a word, resuming what I was doing. I had better things to focus on.
I had already cleaned half of the house, despite its size. Now, I was determined to make the ceilings spotless. There was something strangely calming about the repetitive motion, about turning this place into something that actually felt like mine.
"What is she doing, Calyx?" Jillian's voice dripped with disbelief.
Calyx, who had been lounging nearby, barely looked up. "She said she's cleaning." He shrugged, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.
He wasn't wrong.
We had argued earlier when I told him I wanted to clean the house myself. He had insisted that he could call the maids to do it, but I refused. I needed this. I needed to feel some kind of control over something—anything. The fight had escalated when he physically stopped me from grabbing the cleaning supplies. His frustration had been evident, but in the end, he gave up and let me do what I wanted.
With my wireless AirPods in, I let the music drown out the tension in the room. I wasn't going to let Jillian, or even Calyx, get in the way of this small sense of normalcy I was desperately trying to hold onto.
As soon as I put some distance between myself and them, I discreetly pressed a button to pause the music and answered the call.
"I checked out every manufacturer who might produce that kind of camera, but nothing matches. That camera installed at your house right now is unique, and the serial number doesn't show any results in the system." Kaiser's voice was steady, but I could hear the weight behind his words.
I didn't respond.
There was only one camera left to remove. And I knew—someone was watching my every move.
Good thing I had mastered the art of keeping up appearances. If they were watching, then I'd give them a performance worthy of a Hollywood screen.
My eyes flickered to the small, round device—almost invisible, nestled in the intricate design of the chandelier. No ordinary person would have noticed it. But I wasn't just anyone.
I had spotted it earlier while cleaning the ceiling, a task that had seemed mundane but had now revealed something far more sinister.
Slowly, I stepped off the ladder, positioning it carefully. If I played this right, I could reach it without drawing suspicion.
The real question was—who had put it there? And what exactly were they hoping to see?
I had just managed to remove the camera effortlessly when the sound of approaching footsteps made me freeze.
"What are you doing now, Severa?"
I turned around, gripping the tiny device in my palm before slipping it into my pocket. Calyx stood at the doorway, arms crossed, his scowl deepening as his sharp gaze swept over me.
"Okay! Stop whatever shit you're doing and get yourself cleaned up. I didn't marry you to be my maid."
Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful, and pulled me down the hall.
"Calyx—"
I barely got the word out before I stumbled into my room, caught off guard by how sudden it all was. He let go of me just as abruptly, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.
I stared at him, trying to make sense of why he was suddenly acting like this. He was mad—furious, even—but at what? Me cleaning? The way I looked? Or was it something else entirely?
He always did this. Always left me confused. One moment, he was distant, as if Jillian was the only woman that mattered to him. The next, he was dragging me into my room, making decisions for me like I actually meant something.
"You're done for today, Severa. Take a shower. We're having dinner outside."
I blinked at him, caught off guard.
"What? Why—"
But before I could finish my question, he was already walking away, shutting the door behind him.
I let out a deep breath, rubbing my temples.
Dinner? Outside? With him?
My thoughts immediately drifted to Jillian. She was still here.
Were we going with her too?
-
I didn't know what to feel, much less how to act. This had to be one of the worst situations I had ever put myself in, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why I had agreed to this.
Across from me, Jillian sat with a triumphant grin, her confidence radiating off her like a blinding spotlight. She wore a silver sequined cocktail dress, its short hemline and thin spaghetti straps doing little to conceal what she so obviously wanted to flaunt. Her chest—blessed, as some would call it—threatened to spill out, drawing the eyes of every man in the room.
I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
Then, as if on cue, she stood up the moment Calyx arrived.
I watched, my hands curling into fists under the table, as she made a move—leaning in, lips slightly parted, fully expecting him to kiss her.
But Calyx, with his usual effortless composure, turned his head just in time. The rejection was smooth, practiced even, as he simply took his seat next to me.
Oh.
A slow grin crept onto my lips as I tilted my head at Jillian, mirroring the same victorious smirk a kid would flash after winning a petty fight.
She stiffened for a split second before flipping her hair, as if the failed attempt never happened, but I saw the flicker of irritation in her eyes.
Still, the situation was anything but comfortable.
I shifted in my seat, acutely aware of the whispers around us. The weight of every stare, every hushed murmur, settled on my shoulders.
"Pathetic," someone whispered just loud enough for me to hear.
"She's just letting Jillian steal her husband right in front of her."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening.
I knew. I knew how this looked. I knew exactly what people were thinking.
And worst of all?
They weren't wrong.
"Let's order." Calyx's voice broke through the silence as he flipped open the menu.
Jillian followed suit, her movements stiff, her eyes darting away from me in an obvious attempt to mask her earlier embarrassment.
I smiled. Watching her squirm was oddly satisfying.
"You're not ordering?" Calyx's question pulled my attention back to him. I glanced up just as he set his menu down and turned to me.
Before I could answer, his hand reached out, fingers grazing my skin as he casually adjusted the strap of my top.
My breath hitched.
Unlike Jillian, who was dressed to seduce, I had opted for a simple black spaghetti-strap tank top, loose and effortless, paired with checkered trousers. And yet, here he was, fussing over me.
Heat crept up my neck.
I swallowed, quickly reaching for my glass of water to mask the blush threatening to surface.
"I already ordered," I murmured, my voice quieter than I intended. Needing something to do, I grabbed my phone from my saddlebag, pretending to check my notifications.
Calyx gave a small nod before signaling the waiter. He placed his order, quick and efficient, while Jillian—never one to be left out—rattled off hers with a list of unnecessary modifications.
The poor waiter struggled to keep up, clearly distracted by the way Jillian leaned forward, her chest deliberately on display.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Pathetic.
"So, what's the reason for this little dinner, Calyx?" Jillian's voice cut through the air, smooth but edged with curiosity.
I didn't bother looking at her. Instead, I let my gaze wander around the restaurant.
We were in the heart of the CBD, a two-hour drive from home. The restaurant exuded elegance—a seamless blend of vintage charm and modern luxury. Antiques were carefully displayed along the walls, each piece illuminated by the warm glow of dimmed chandeliers. Gold and bronze accents framed the space, their richness complementing the deep mahogany furnishings.
But what stood out the most were the walls—all glass.
From where I sat, I had a perfect view of the city outside—the towering skyline, the distant hum of headlights weaving through the streets, the people walking past, occasionally glancing in our direction.
Just as clearly, they could see us.
And from the way some of them lingered, whispering among themselves, I had no doubt they recognized us.
Me. Calyx. Jillian.
A scandalous trio for the world to feast on.
"I just need to clear everything between the three of us," Calyx said, his voice quieter than usual.
I turned to him, studying his face. His eyes were unfocused, his fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table. His entire body was tense—like he was bracing for something. Or maybe… afraid of something.
Leaning back against my chair, I crossed my arms, keeping my voice even. "You know the situation is already clear, Calyx. There's nothing left to discuss. I am your wife, and Jillian is just your mistress. And of course, I haven't forgotten the most important fact—you're in love with her, not me."
Jillian grinned, tilting her chin higher. "It's a good thing you've finally accepted reality."
I smiled—coldly. "Of course, I have. I am the wife. You are the mistress. And no matter what happens, that won't change."
Her grin faltered.
Calyx let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. "Can you both stop arguing in front of me?" he hissed, frustration laced in his tone.
I rolled my eyes at Jillian, who shot me a sullen glance before turning to Calyx with an apologetic expression—like she was some kind of saint.
The tension between us was thick, but before anything else could be said, the waiter arrived with our food. Each dish was perfectly plated, the aroma rich and enticing, yet my appetite was nonexistent. The thought of sharing a meal with them was enough to make my stomach turn.
I stayed silent, gripping the edge of the table as the waiter placed each plate before us.
When he finally walked away, I caught the way Calyx exhaled—a long, deep sigh, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"If you'd just tell me the truth, you wouldn't have to keep dealing with this mess," I said, my voice steady but laced with quiet frustration. "I can handle a storm, Calyx. I'm not as fragile as you think."
Jillian scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Handle a storm? Please," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "You're barely old enough to handle the reality of your own marriage—especially one where your husband doesn't even love you."
I let out a short, humorless laugh. The audacity. I stared at her, almost impressed by her nerve.
"Jillian, enough," Calyx snapped, his voice low, tense. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're making this worse."
I tilted my head, watching him carefully. "Everything is already a disaster, Calyx. Why not just make things easier for all of us?" I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. "I'll sign the divorce papers the second you want me to. But you won't agree to it. I wonder why."
Jillian stiffened beside him, her carefully crafted confidence cracking. "What?" Her eyes darted to Calyx. "Is that true?"
He didn't answer.
I smirked, savoring the way the silence weighed on him.
Jillian didn't seem to realize that Calyx was the one making everything more complicated. And I couldn't stop the thoughts from racing in my head—why wouldn't he agree to end this marriage if he truly didn't love me? If he wanted to be free, to be with Jillian without guilt, without restraint, what was stopping him?
A part of me, one I hated acknowledging, held onto a sliver of hope. But I knew better. I knew he was trapped in something bigger than just the three of us. How could he not be, when there were nearly forty surveillance cameras installed in that house—something I only discovered after living there for three months? And I was certain of one thing. Calyx wasn't the one who put them there.
I needed to find out who did.
Calyx remained silent, his head bowed, refusing to meet either of our gazes.
Jillian, impatient and fuming, finally snapped. "Calyx, you promised you'd fix this! Why won't you just divorce her?" Her voice rang through the restaurant, making heads turn.
I exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Could you lower your voice, bitch? Or do you enjoy making a scene?" My words were laced with irritation as I turned my attention back to Calyx.
"Just answer her," I said, my voice quieter now, but firm. "You can say yes or no. It's that simple, isn't it?"
But the way his shoulders tensed told me it wasn't simple at all.
My phone vibrated in my bag, and I instinctively reached for it. Kaiser's name flashed on the screen. I was just about to answer when—
Boom.
A deafening explosion erupted just outside the restaurant. The impact sent a violent tremor through the ground, shattering the glass walls instantly. Shards flew like deadly rain, and screams filled the air. Guests sitting near the windows were hurled from their seats, their bodies hitting the floor in a chaotic mess of overturned tables and broken glass.
Before I could even process what was happening, strong hands yanked me down. Calyx.
The breath rushed out of me as we hit the floor. My ears were ringing, my body trembling from the sheer force of the blast. Panic clawed at my chest, but through the haze of adrenaline, one thought cut through—
Jillian.
"Where's Jillian?" I shouted, my voice hoarse and uneven.
Calyx's head snapped up, scanning the wreckage. Without thinking, I did the same, my eyes frantically searching through the chaos.
Then we saw her.
Jillian was on the ground, curled in on herself, clutching her head as she sobbed.
We scrambled toward her, navigating through shattered glass and debris. My heart pounded wildly, adrenaline surging as I reached her side. Blood trickled from a small cut on her forehead, and her whole body trembled.
"Jillian, are you hurt?" Calyx asked urgently, gripping her shoulders.
She didn't answer—just kept crying, her entire frame shaking with shock.
I swallowed hard, forcing down my own fear. Whatever just happened wasn't over. And something told me this wasn't just an accident.
Suddenly, thick smoke billowed into the restaurant, swallowing everything in a suffocating haze. The scent of burning metal and chemicals stung my nostrils, and the screams around me grew more frantic.
Without hesitation, I lunged toward the nearest table, yanking the cloth free with trembling hands. The silverware clattered to the ground, but I didn't care. I tore the fabric into strips and thrust them toward Calyx and Jillian.
"Cover your nose!" My voice was sharp, urgent.
They obeyed without question, pressing the makeshift filters over their faces.
I reached into my saddlebag, fingers fumbling for my earpiece. My smartwatch blinked to life as I quickly connected the comms, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. With practiced ease, I dialed Kaiser's private line.
No answer.
I gritted my teeth and tried his personal number.
Out of coverage.
I cursed under my breath, frustration knotting in my chest. The smoke thickened, clawing at my lungs. Around me, the chaos escalated—people pushing, running blindly, knocking over chairs in their desperation to escape.
Through the haze, I heard Calyx's panicked voice, calling someone—anyone. Jillian was on the verge of hysteria, her breathing uneven as she clutched at his arm.
I pressed the cloth harder against my face, forcing myself to shut my eyes. Breathe, Severa. Focus.
I had trained for this. I had lived through worse. My body knew what to do—I just had to remember.
But this time was different.
This time, Calyx was with me.
And the thought of something happening to him twisted a cold, sharp fear into my chest.
If he got hurt—if I lost him in this mess—
I don't think I could forgive myself.